


A Moment in Time

by Deejaymil (orphan_account)



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Kidnapping, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3970081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Deejaymil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What could possibly make the legendary Leroy Jethro Gibbs scared? When Gibbs is distracted during a raid, will his team pay with their lives?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thank God, Tony's Still Alive

 

" _Thank God, Tony's still alive. Who else can piss people off like that?"_

 

* * *

 

Tony DiNozzo didn't want to wake up. He could hear muffled voices from somewhere over his head, but ignored them. He was so tired... surely he could sleep for just another five minutes.

"Tony, wake up." That was Ziva's voice. What was Ziva doing in his apartment? Because wasn't he asleep at home, simply exhausted after work? Unless... oh no. Gibb's rule, what number was it? He couldn't remember, like it mattered. Something with a 2.  _Never date a co-worker_. There was no way him and Ziva...

No. At the very least, he'd remember if him and her had... they hadn't. He wasn't entirely sure how Ziva did  **it** , but he was fairly sure he'd have bruises.

Although his head was in agony... thinking hurt. Tony allowed himself to stop thinking, and begun to drift again.  _Bliss._

"DiNozzo!" Oh crap, that was Gibbs. Now he was in trouble. He wasn't sure what for but his hazy mind supplied.. rule 12? Something to do with rule 12? And Ziva...

"DiNozzo, don't make me headslap you. This is a direct order, open your eyes!" Tony tried. He really did. But his eyelids felt like they were glued together, and after all, it was so much nicer when they were shut. Surely Bossman would understand... All he wanted to do was sleep...

He felt someone brush their hands across his face, moving his head. The touch was so featherlight, he couldn't think who it might be.

Voices again. This time McGee. It was a goddamn party in here. "Boss, are you sure you should move him? If he's got a spinal injury..." Who, Tony? He felt fine. Head was sore, but apart from that.

"The only thing DiNozzo's got is a thick head and an inability to listen to simple instructions!" Gibbs' voice sounded mad, frustrated and, a little of something else. Fear?

What could possibly make the legendary Leroy Jethro Gibbs scared? There was no drifting off for Tony now, he redoubled his efforts to open his eyes. It was like someone smeared wet cement on them, they refused to move, and the pain in his skull worsened.

Someone's hand was cradling his head, and he felt a breath on his face as the person leant down to get closer to his ear.

"Tony, listen to me. You need to open your eyes. Now. Please?"

That – that wasn't Gibbs was it? He sounded like he was pleading with him! The great Gibbs never pleaded. And... was Gibbs holding him? If he had of been capable of strong emotions, Tony would have ranked this as the most embarrassing moment of his career. Well maybe except for that time he stayed with Gibbs and... well that was best forgotten.

DiNozzo swallowed, and tried to form words but his mouth was as uncooperative as his eyes. It felt as dry as sandpaper, and his tongue was so swollen he could barely move it without it sticking to the side of his cheek. Any attempt at breathing caused his throat to hitch as though there was something lodged inside.

"G-ah," he gasped, no words legible. He felt the person holding him freeze, listening intently. He had never felt so out of control of his own body, and frantically wondered what had happened to him. The pounding of his headache drowned out all other sounds, and he focussed completely on the rhythm of Gibbs breathing. "I'm, I'm ss-soh-orry," he choked out.

He felt Gibbs relax. "Don't apologize, DiNozzo. It's a-"

The words came easier this time. "Sign of weakness." DiNozzo attempted a smile. He opened his eyes, a momentous effort. Gibbs was peering over him, customary expressionless face intact. But was it just a trick of the light, or did he look a little paler than usual...? And there was a cut above his eye. He wondered if the person who did that was still alive...

"Tony?" That panicky voice could only belong to McGee. "Tony, man, are you OK?"

Tony tried to turn his head, but pain exploded in his skull and he fought down a wave of nausea, only managing a groan. He closed his eyes and tried to ride the waves of pain.

"You got quite a knock to the head, my boy," he heard Ducky say from a long distance away. "Possible concussion, try not to pass out on us."

"Trying that, Ducky," he murmured. Gibbs tensed up again, Tony felt the muscles in his arms contract. And why exactly was Gibbs holding him like a child?

"Who you talking to DiNozzo?" he barked. Tony opened his eyes again, and tried to focus on Gibbs.. no wait, he tried to focus on one of the Gibbs's.

"Hey Boss, why didn't you tell me you had a twin?" he asked, giggling. This seemed utterly hilarious to him. "Ducky, did you know?"

"Of course," said the elderly doctor. "It reminds me of this time when I was a boy..."

Tony groaned again, this time at the thought of another of Ducky's long, rambling stories. He tuned back into Gibbs's voice again, seemingly unable to listen to two things at once. The Marine was glaring at him, Gibbs stare in full force. His twin was gone, although the original's edges were a little blurry.

"Focus DiNozzo, Ducky Isn't here! What's your full name?" And as soon as Gibbs said that, Tony could no longer hear the brisk British accent prattling on. He swallowed. He hated being so defenceless in front of his team. He ignored the question, it was stupid. He knew his name. It was Tony... something. Nevermind.

"Ziva? McGee?" he rasped. Had he hallucinated them as well?

"We are here, Tony," the Mossad agent told him. She sounded like she was speaking from far away, across a room perhaps. She sounded tired, tired and hurt. Something had broken her defences down.

"Yeah, right here." Ahhh, he never thought he'd be so glad to hear the Probie's voice. He wasn't such a bad guy, turning out to be a good agent. Maybe he should tell him that... before he fell asleep again...

"Tim..." he slurred, already drifting away. "S'good agent..."

_Darkness._

* * *

 


	2. Repeated head trauma causes brain damage

" _You know, repeated head trauma causes brain damage."_

" _Explains a lot."_

"  _Is this side of my head bigger?"_

"  _Yes. But so is the other side."_

 

* * *

Sometimes, Gibbs wondered just how many more knocks to the head DiNozzo could take, before more permanent damage was done. Hell, surely he couldn't afford to lose anymore brain cells, that was for sure.

But, to the ex-Marine's considerable relief, his Senior Agent seemed to be recovering from his confusion. It had been touch and go for a bit, he'd had been unresponsive for the better half of a day. At least, Gibbs figured it had been most of the day. They had no way of telling time locked in some sort of underground cell or basement with no windows and one, solid metal door.

Of course, now Tony was awake, the three other agents trapped in the small room with him were all considering knocking him unconscious again.

"You know, this reminds me of a movie I saw once," said the Italian loudly. "Pierce Brosnan's James Bond, in Die Another Day. Pathetic Bond movie, Brosnan doesn't hold a car to Connery. Bond gets captured by North Koreans-"

Gibbs felt his patience, already tested, snap. "DiNozzo, if you don't shut your mouth, I'll shut it for you!" he said, voice tense. DiNozzo fell silent, recognising the danger tone in his boss's voice. Gibbs closed his eyes and leant against the damp wall, trying desperately to think of a way out.

"You know, MacGyver could have gotten out of here by now..." Tony muttered. Gibbs opened his eyes, and glared at the green-eyed agent, who flinched and looked at the floor.

"Shutting up now, Boss."

"Tony, you are climbing us up the wall!" Ziva snapped. She was slumped by the door, exhausted by her efforts to break through. The Mossad agent had hated being trapped in such an enclosed space, and after unsuccessfully trying to pick the lock, had resorted to banging loudly on the door, shouting.

"It's driving us up the wall,  _Zee-vah_ ," retorted Tony, gleeful at having someone else to annoy. "Just how long have you been in America?"

"Driving up the wall makes no sense!" she cried. "Who drives up the wall?"

"What, and me climbing you up it makes more sense does it?"

Gibbs felt his eye start twitching involuntarily. If they didn't shut up, to hell with their captors. He'd kill them himself and save them the trouble. "Will you two be quiet before I kick you both into the middle of next week! Tony, save your breath for telling me just how exactly were getting out of here, and Ziva..." She looked at him, guilt splashed across her face. "Stop attacking the door. Save your energy." She nodded.

Silence in the room again, except for the sound of breathing. Gibbs found himself listening to the way his agents inhaled... McGee, shallow breaths barely legible from where he was crouched by Tony. Ziva panting from her exertions. Tony's soft gasps as his breath caught in his throat.

Gibbs frowned at his oldest agent. After awakening, DiNozzo had sworn he felt fine. The way he carefully avoided looking at the light, and the struggle he seemed to be having breathing said otherwise. His face was shiny with a layer of sweat and he was still a sickly shade of pale. He decided to keep a close eye on the brash young man, whatever Tony thought of it. Not for the first time, Gibbs silently damned the women who'd infected his otherwise healthy agent with  _Y. Pestis,_ otherwise known as the pneumonic plague.

They were all relatively unhurt apart from Tony, and the occasional bruises shared between them. The trap they'd walked into had been very well executed. This has had the misfortune of happening the one time of the year that Gibbs's attention was not fully on his job, the one time he wouldn't have noticed the warning signs and gotten his team the hell out of there.

He'd made the damn rules, he should know them. Rule #15. He'd figured the raid was a simple one, in and out. He'd been wrong. There had been too many of them and they'd been too quick at surrounding them. What had been a simple raid on a smuggler's den, had turned deadly when Tony had triggered a trap sending him hurtling into a wall. The assailants had been swift and before even Gibbs could fire, they'd surrounded McGee and had him disarmed.

Gibbs swore to himself. With Tony unconscious and McGee without a weapon, he'd had no choice but to give himself up, hoping that Ziva would realise something was wrong and escape. No such luck though, even the Mossad assassin had been overpowered by sheer numbers.

They'd been marched down, duckling style, to this tiny underground room and left to rot. For the most part cooperating, Gibbs had objected once at their rough handling of his senior agent's limp body, and received a hefty whack over the head for his troubles. He touched the cut gingerly, wincing as he felt the bruising underneath.

His only hope was that someone at NCIS would realise quickly that something was wrong, which was bound to happen soon, and that rescue would come before they were moved somewhere else. However, he had a horrible suspicion this room would be harder to find then what he'd first thought, simply because of the long time they'd spent getting there and how well planned the attack was.

Whoever it was, they knew his team and they knew him. Gibbs couldn't help but feel guilty for his part in this. Had he been working up to standard, they wouldn't have been trapped down here. He should have done the right thing, and passed the raid off on another team. Damn him and his damn fools pride.

He'd been distracted all day, and his team knew it. Their attention had been on him, making sure he was OK. None of them had been focussed properly on the job, and it was his fault. He hoped that if they got out of here, he could make it up to the team. Maybe explain exactly why he was so distracted.

Ducky had known, and had told him to take the day off. Why hadn't he taken the doctor's advice? Sometimes he thought that Ducky knew him better than he knew himself...

But there was no point regretting his actions at this point. He'd gotten his team into this mess, and it was his responsibility to get them out. Whoever had done this, to him and his team, they would pay. For every bruise on his agent's bodies, they would suffer tenfold. This he promised himself.

Gibbs was distracted from his train of thought by a loud bang. Startled he jumped, then glanced around to make sure none of the team had seen him. He didn't want them seeing their Boss jumping like a little schoolgirl. That was McGee's job.

"Ziva!" he growled, covering for his slip. "I thought I told you to stop banging the door!" She looked at him, then at the door.

"That was not me, Gibbs." DiNozzo and McGee both shook their heads.

Ziva stood and positioned herself behind the door, waiting for a chance to immobilise whoever entered. Gibbs motioned for her to be careful, and to wait his signal before attacking. She nodded her assent, and watched the door carefully, dark eyes narrowed.

Tony made to get up, Gibbs frowned at him. DiNozzo was going to stay well out of the way in this one. McGee, catching Gibbs' glare, put his hand on DiNozzo's shoulder and held him down, much to the older agents disgust.

A tense few moments later, they heard someone moving on the other side of the door, the sound of locks being undone. "Don't try anything, NCIS," came the muffled call from the other side. "Or we will not hesitate to kill you all." Gibbs' eyes flickered to Ziva, who avoided catching his gaze. He knew that she would sacrifice herself in to give them a chance to escape, but it wasn't her place to do that.

If anyone would die here today to help the others, it would be him. He moved, faster than any of them thought him capable, and in one swift leap, had caught Ziva and pulled her away from the door. Keeping one arm wrapped around her, he positioned himself so both Ziva and DiNozzo were partly concealed by his body. He hoped McGee did nothing to bring attention to himself, he only had so much body.

Before either of his agents could disagree with the way he'd placed himself, the door begun to open. Though he knew her face would reveal nothing, Gibbs felt Ziva's heart rate jump, as she mentally prepared herself for what would happen next.

But nothing could have prepared Gibbs for the person standing in the doorway, flanked by armed and masked guards. The last person on earth Gibbs had ever expected to see again, smiled at him, and gazed at him with the cold blue eyes he remembered so well.

"Well hello there Gibbs. Fancy meeting you here."

_(Those eyes, filled not with hatred but with trust, knowing that Gibbs would have his back. A younger Gibbs, screwing up. Betraying his friend, and forever shattering their friendship. The first hint of a hatred, left to fester over the years)  
_

Gibbs felt his stomach drop. They were in a lot more trouble than he'd first thought.


	3. An attitude adjustment

_("_ _I don't know what to get anybody. What do you think Tony needs?"_ _  
_ _"An attitude adjustment.")_

 

* * *

 

Tony DiNozzo couldn't see his Boss's face, but after nearly eight years of working with the man, he could tell that something had shocked the normally unflappable Marine. Everything in Gibbs's posture, from the way he'd frozen rigid at the sight of the unknown man, to the tense set of his shoulders, told the Senior Agent that things had just gone from Rather Bad to Oh Man We're All Gunna Die.

Tony didn't really fancy dying, and he sure as hell wasn't going to sit by and watch his Boss get gunned down in front of him. He shook McGee's hand off his shoulder and stood. Ignoring the way the ground tilted beneath his feet, he squared his body and did his best Gibbs stare at the bastard who'd imprisoned them.

At the first sign of trouble, DiNozzo planned to be barrelling straight at the men, before they got a chance to aim at Gibbs. Until then, he was going to be a good little agent and do as Bossman said. But there was no way he was going to be a good little agent from on the floor, leave that to McSqueaky.

Of course, that would involve getting past not only Gibbs, but Ziva too, and Tony would bet every last one of his expensive Armani suits that Ziva had exactly the same idea as him. And McGee... well god knows what McGee was thinking. Who knew what went on in that tiny little mind. Probably planning his next meeting with his online elf-girlfriend.

He managed to stop a chuckle at the thought of McGeek dressed up as the snow-elf, and turned his attention to the task at hand. If this guy thought he had them beat, well clearly he'd never met Gibbs!

"Well hello there Gibbs," said the stranger. "Fancy meeting you here." Tony glanced from one to the other, then exchanged a quizzical glance with McGee. The younger agent looked just as puzzled as Tony.

"Raoul," Gibbs stated, bluntly. His voice was calm, but Tony could tell by the set of his shoulders that Gibbs was shocked at the appearance of the other man.

Tony would have instantly disliked the man in the doorway, even if they had just been passersby in the street and not kidnapper and kidnapped. He bore a slight resemblance to Gibbs in build, height and age, but that was all they had in common. Tony recognised the type from his childhood, greasy hair, slicked back and dyed black. Cheap suit, and the stench of old tobacco. Someone who'd recently come into money and was trying their best to act like they deserved it. That they were elite.

And his eyes, although they were the same shade of deep blue, they were cold and hard. Tony could almost see the hated in them, aimed directly at his boss. Where Gibbs was honest, this man was corrupt. He couldn't imagine why, but the way the man, Raoul, glared at Gibbs, Tony guessed it was a personal vendetta that had gotten them here.

"I simply wanted to see you again, old friend," Raoul said to Gibbs, false smile firmly in place. "Reminisce on old times, back when we were Marines together in the Corps.

"You were never a good Marine, Gunny. Too cocky." Gibbs matched the other man's cold tone, but somehow from Gibbs, it was much scarier. "I'm glad to see you're not wasting your father's fortune." He gestured to the armed men.

"I knew what I wanted, and I was determined to have what was my due," spat their captor. "And a man of my stature needs... protection."

"From your own stupidity. No guard in the world who can protect you from that. You were stupid as a Marine, and this stunt proves that you're still stupid.. You think no one is going to notice an entire team of NCIS agents are missing?"

"Sure they will," Raoul answered. "But by the time they do, your team will be dead and my debt will be repaid."

The guards, on signal, raised their guns and aimed them into the room, straight at Gibbs. During the 'discussion', Raoul had moved further into the room, until he was face to face with Gibbs, and incidentally, within reach of Ziva. Now, he stepped aside, leaving the gunmen's' aim clear.

"What debt?" Gibbs growled. "I owe you nothing!"

Raoul turned hate-filled eyes onto the former Marine. "You owe me everything!"

Tony didn't need to be a mind-reader to realise this talk was nearly over. He was just as curious as anyone to find out what the man meant by that, but there was no way he was letting them aim their guns at his boss a moment longer. Before he could move, however, Ziva bet him to it.

Raoul didn't even see her move. In moments she had gone from behind Gibbs, to holding a knife inches from the businessman's throat.

She had placed his body between her and the gunmen. "If you shoot, he will die," she told the bodyguards, who froze.

"Good job Ziva," Tony told her. "You just keep getting creepier, don't you?"

"I am an assassin, Tony. Creepy is my job."She didn't smile, merely held the knife closer to his throat. The man's arms were by his side, unarmed. The only danger came from the gunmen at the door. Getting past them would be difficult.

"Place your weapons on the floor," barked Ziva. "Kick them to – oh!" None of them had seen the syringe Raoul held close to his side, now empty.

Three pairs of eyes turned to Ziva, just in time to see her drop the knife. Tony blinked. He didn't think he'd ever seen Ziva drop a knife, drop anything.

"Don't shoot them!" roared Raoul. The gunmen charged into the room, as he leapt away from a stunned Ziva, who stood completely motionless, eyes wide. Gibbs didn't even have a chance to move, before he was tackled to the floor, butt of the gun held above his temple. Tony squared off the second gunman, trying not to trample McGee, who was still behind him.

"Ziva!" cried McGee, and out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw her topple to the ground. Forgetting the second gunman he sprinted towards her, catching her before she struck her head on the floor. Moments later he heard an oof from McGee as he tried to keep the bodyguard from reaching them both.

She was still conscious when he reached her. "Drugged," she gasped, before going limp. Tony supposed he was glad it wasn't anything worse, she shouldn't have gotten so close to Raoul! Surely they should have realised he wouldn't enter the room without some sort of protection.

He lay her on the ground, and stood up to help McGee, anger coursing through him. No one hurt his team, not some smarmy arse businessman with nose to grind, no one.

He shouldn't have let his guard down. He felt a pinch in the back of his neck, before he could stand fully upright, and swung around to see Raoul standing behind him, smiling cruelly. Gibbs was already unconscious, and Tim was being held down by the two guards, kicking and squirming.

The room spun and he felt himself, for the second time that day, slipping into oblivion.

_Damn._


	4. One of you didn't come back

_("Gibbs. It's just last time you guys went to L.A. one of you didn't come back._ _"_ __  
_"I'll bring him home, Abs."_ _  
_ _"Just make sure you bring yourself back, too.")_

 

* * *

 

There was something very lonely about being surrounded by unconscious people. Tim McGee didn't know why they'd left him awake, he assumed it was because he posed the least threat to them. Well maybe Tony was brawnier than him, and Ziva was more dangerous, and Gibbs was... well more Gibbs than him. But one thing Tim McGee was not was stupid!

So, he could use his mind where their strength had failed. They were being moved, and Tim desperately focussed on everything around him, hoping to see or hear something that would help them escape or get word to their friends and colleagues back at NCIS.

Unfortunately, he had very little to go on. He counted the steps as they walked, noted the colour of the walls, the rising odour of damp. He was slightly disheartened by the fact that they were moving further underground, and from what he saw peering around corners and down passages, they were in a virtual labyrinth of tunnels. Some sort of underground system.

They'd been searched thoroughly when they'd first gotten caught, and been left with nothing but the clothes they wore. Even their shoes had been taken. Since they'd taken his backup weapons, Tim had assumed they'd gotten the others as well. Obviously he'd assumed wrong, as Ziva had used her knife. Rule #9 in action. He wondered if his teammates had any other surprises in store for their captors.

They were thrown unceremoniously into an even smaller, soggier room than the one they'd left. It was lit by a single dim bulb, and rusty pipes jutted out of the walls. The floor was cold cement with a smelly drain in one corner.

Looking at the drain, Tim suddenly realised something. He really, really needed to...

The door was slammed shut and he was alone with his team, all still completely out of it. Jiggling up and down, he looked from the team to the drain. How embarrassing if Tony woke up while he was relieving himself...

"If you need to go, McGee, just go." Gibbs was awake. Red-faced, Tim did as he was told. This had to be the most mortifying experience ever... worse than the times Tony super-glued his fingers to his keyboard even.

He helped Gibbs sit up. The ex marine did so stoically, without even a groan, even though Tim was sure he must be covered in bruises from his rough treatment. Of course, there was no way Gibbs would let him examine him before they made sure Tony and Ziva were OK.

"You good, McGee?" Gibbs asked gruffly, as he checked Tony over for broken bones. Tim flinched at the black and blue bruises that covered DiNozzo's abdomen, and turned his attention to making sure Ziva was breathing properly.

"I'm fine, Boss. Seriously," he added, seeing Gibbs raise an eyebrow at him. "I.. I didn't put up much of a fight." He looked at the ground, ashamed. The others had fought, like mad, and he had pretty much just sat there. This was why he would never be a real NCIS agent, no matter what titles they gave him. When it came down to it, he was a coward. He'd frozen up, when his team was in danger.

"You're still alive aren't you?" Gibbs asked him. Tim blinked, nodded. "Then that's enough. There was no point you getting drugged along with the rest of us. You kept your head. And I saw you get between Tony and those two thugs." This was a long speech for Gibbs. Tim nodded again, slowly. Yeah, so he had stopped them from reaching Tony.

"So stop feeling sorry for yourself. Get to work, McGee. That's an order." Tim leapt up. Same old Gibbs.

He begun to thoroughly search every corner, wall and pipe, what for, he wasn't sure. But if there was something there, he'd find it. Gibbs helped, moving stiffly.

_Atta boy, Tim_ , he thought.

* * *

Jackson Gibbs hated shopping. Buying the same things, every week. It was annoying, and repetitive. He'd rather be out fishing, honestly. He reached up to put a can of beans in the cupboard, and swore when it slipped from his hands and clattered to the floor. A bag fell from the table, spilling groceries everywhere. Every knock echoed hollowly in the empty house. He listened to the noise, remembering a time when the house hadn't been quite so empty...

Shaking his head, he hit the power button on a small portable TV on the counter. Flicked it over to a news program, he turned the volume up and left it running as he picked up the spilled groceries. That was better, a bit of life in the old house.

A word caught his attention.  _NCIS_. Frowning, he turned to the TV. The last time he'd talked to his son, he remembered one of his agents complaining that they never got to be on the news. What had changed? He swallowed, his famous Gibbs gut doing somersaults.

A petite brunette was reading the headlines, briskly. There was no emotion in her voice, it was professional to the core. No idea that the words she was speaking were rocking him to the core.

"The NCIS Major Response Team was yesterday reported missing, after failing to return from a routine raid. The team, led by Special Agent Leroy Gibbs, was last seen at 0900 yesterday morning. No trace of them has been found at the site of the raid, or at their homes. Foul play is suspected. Director of NCIS, Jenny Shepherd, had this to say."

A red-headed women appeared on the screen. Jackson smiled. So this was his son's boss then. A red-head. "The investigation continues and our fellow agencies are doing their best to assist us in finding our agents. Of course finding them and bringing them home is our first priority, but we will be bringing justice to those responsible." She stopped, as a reporter yelled a question.

"Is there a chance the missing agents are already dead?" Jackson felt those words like a physical blow, and although she tried to hide it, he could see the Director was shaken as well. She controlled it well though.

"Special Agent Gibbs and his team are some of our best agents," she responded, steel in her voice. "They're smart, resilient and intuitive. I can guarantee you, they will be doing their best to keep themselves alive and unhurt. And we will find them, and bring them home."

Jackson had seen enough. He reached and hit the mute button on the TV, and grabbed his phone, scrolling though the contacts. He'd never given up on his son, although his calls were rarely returned, he knew exactly how to keep in touch. One person never refused his calls, and he hoped today was no different.

The line clicked as it connected, and before the person on the other end could say anything, Jackson was speaking. "Ducky? What's happened?"

* * *

Ducky sighed as he held the phone to his ear. He was in autopsy, watching Palmer try and reassure a hysterical Abby. The young Goth had been in tears since they'd heard about the teams disappearance, and without any forensic evidence to distract her from it, had been in autopsy since, inconsolable.

"I wish I knew, Jackson," he told the older Gibbs sadly. "I wish I knew."


	5. Sometimes, you're wrong

_Rule #51: Sometimes, you're wrong._

 

* * *

 

Ziva David knew that she could kill a man with a paperclip, and knew more about interrogation than Tony and Tim combined. But that did not make it any easier when the one she needed to interrogate was her boss.

The man, Raoul, had said that Gibbs was the reason they were here. If that was the only information they had to go on, then they needed to know everything.

She sat quietly, watching Gibbs go over the room yet another time. Clearly there was no escape that way, and even Tim had given up. Gibbs was just being stubborn and avoiding questions. He had said the man was never a good Marine? So they were in the Corps together... And Gibbs owed him some sort of debt. A blood debt obviously, if they were to be killed to repay it. She was Mossad, she knew blood-debts. She had seen them tear family and friends apart.

If Tony was not willing to stand up to his boss about this, then it would have to be her. "Gibbs." The marine ignored her, as he had been ignoring her since she had first tried to ask him what was going on. Shehad expected that, the second 'B' was for bastard after all. Never mind, she would just guilt him into answering her. "We are your team, Gibbs. If we are in danger, you owe us an explanation."

And just like that, she saw his shields drop. Everything from the way he stopped searching, to the slump of his shoulders, showed a man who was wracked with guilt.

"You're right," he said softly. Tony coughed. Ziva was as surprised as the Italian. Gibbs never admitted to being wrong. To the point where Tony believed that he was never wrong.

Foolish notion, everyone could be wrong.

He turned, and he was Gibbs again. He was a marine. "It was in 1991, before Sha- before Operation Desert Storm. Maybe late 1990, it was a long time ago." Ziva sat down, next to McGee. Gibbs was staring into the distance, not with them anymore.

"Raoul Balmer, he was a Marine with me. We were friends. He had a family at home, same as me. Wife, two daughters. Rebecca and Mary-Ann, he showed me their pictures. They were beautiful.

"He got into some trouble when we were on home-leave, came to ask for my help. Borrowed some money, gambled it, borrowed more. Same old story. They threatened his family, and that was when he decided he needed help. And not just anyone, he wanted me. Good old Gibbs, his 'mate'.

"I tried to help him, for old times sake. But they told me, if I got involved, they'd go after my family as well. I – I had to protect my family first. I told him that. I told him to call the police, call someone else. I was a coward, I wasn't thinking like a Marine. I turned my back on him, and he tried to run. They killed them, his wife, Carina, his two daughters. I saw the news report, but I never saw him again. I didn't kill them, but if I hadn't of walked away they might not be dead."

They were silent for a bit. Ziva did not think it was Gibbs' fault, she wasn't really sure what she thought. But she felt as though she understood Balmer just a little bit more, driven mad by grief. But Gibbs had lost his family too, and he hadn't been driven mad by a quest for vengeance. Especially against someone who hadn't been responsible for the final blow.

But looking at Gibbs, she could see that he also blamed himself. She had seen it in him after Kate had died, he had felt responsible for those children, and they had died because he had turned his back on that responsibility. But he had done it to protect his family, and she wasn't sure she would have done any different.

* * *

Tony wondered how long they'd been trapped here. Time seemed to ebb and flow, he wasn't sure if it had been a few hours, days or even a week. He'd been unconscious for most of it.

Captivity was changing them. He'd never heard their 'functional mute' talk so much. McGee was disappearing into his own head. Ziva seemed to be getting harder, if possible. And Tony... he just wanted to go home.

It was a strange thing, listening to Gibbs reveal something like this about his past. The story was sad, but what was sadder still was Gibbs had let that family die to protect his own... who had been murdered less than a year later anyway. For once, Tony had no smart comments or movie references. He sat with his head in his hands, wishing that he would wake up and this was all a dream.

But it wasn't, and with every hour that passed, chances of rescue seemed to be getting slimmer. It was well and truly up to them. "What would Balmer be planning, Boss?" he asked gently. He needn't have bothered, Gibbs was already back to his old self. Resilient bastard.

"What I said before wasn't entirely correct," Gibbs told them. "He was smart, maybe not book-smart, but clever enough that he would have planned this well. And he was nothing if not fair. We used to play pranks on each other, and he was careful that when he retaliated, that his retaliation matched what you'd done to him."

Gibbs nodded at them in turn. "Three deaths he's blaming me for... three of you. I doubt he'll kill me. He'll want me to suffer through watching your deaths."

Tony swallowed. Gibbs was tough, and he had no doubt that the marine could withstand torture. But he wouldn't be able to stand by and watch his team die, losing Kate had nearly destroyed him, destroyed all of them.

"Not quite, Gunny," said a voice, from all around them. Tony jumped, then mentally kicked himself. They hadn't checked inside the pipes, there could be listening devices, speakers, anything in them! He could see McGee come to the same conclusion. The younger agent moved towards the largest pipe, Gibbs put a arm out to stop him, shaking his head. They listened.

"I don't intend upon killing  _all_  of your team. Maybe that was what I originally planned... but where's the fun in that?" The voice was Balmer's. Tony could learn to hate that voice. No wait... he already hated that voice. When he got hold of the sadistic bastard who'd done this... The senior agent smiled grimly.

"After all, you were right about one thing. I am a fair man. Three of my family taken away from me, my wife and two daughters. And you've already lost two, haven't you Gibbs? Now you know what it's like to lose your family, don't you? And you know what it's like to want to hurt the person responsible.

"It's been 18 years since your family died Gibbs. Eighteen years exactly the day I trapped you and your team. Should have stayed home that day, Jethro. Now, another death will mark the occasion. You're going to lose one more member of your little 'family', then we're even. But I'm nothing if not fair, Gibbs... you used to be my friend, before you betrayed me. So I'll be fair.

"You choose the one to die. Anthony, Ziva or Timothy. You have twenty-four hours, or I'll kill them all."

Tony didn't dare to look at Gibbs. Oh yes, when he got hold of this Raoul, he'd wish he was dead and in hell already.


	6. Worry about tomorrow

(" _So that really could've been us."_  
 _ **"** It could be us every single day of the week; sometimes it has been. You wanna worry about something? Worry about tomorrow._")

 

* * *

 

The silence was the worst bit. No one said anything. Gibbs continued staring at the wall like nothing had happened, Tim sat with his knees tucked up, as though he was trying to curl up into himself and hide. Ziva... was being Ziva. Not saying anything, watching everyone. Except Gibbs. None of them were watching Gibbs. Looking at him... it hurt.

Tony knew that Gibbs would never chose one of his team to die. Gibbs would never let any of them be killed, not while he still lived. Not after Kate. No, it couldn't be left up to Gibbs to make this decision.

Knowing his boss, DiNozzo figured that he planned to offer himself. He also realised that that wouldn't work, Balmer wanted Gibbs to suffer. He couldn't suffer if he was dead. And carrying the guilt of one of his teams' death for the rest of his life... not even Gibbs could do that. It would destroy him. They'd lose him, either to the bottom of a bottle, or to his own guilt one dark night when he was home alone.

No, Tony felt that the only option he had was to tell them that he'd go. The idea left him with a cold feeling in his gut. He wasn't ready to die, not at all. But he couldn't watch one of his team be killed. And if he was dead... he wouldn't have to see the effect his death had on his friends.

Besides, Ziva, Tim, they were both worth so much more than him. All his life he knew he wasn't quite good enough, that eventually people would look past his jokes and charm and see him for who he really was, a fake. Then they'd know that he wasn't the agent Gibbs thought he was, wasn't the decent guy Abby thought he was.

Abby. If he died here, he'd never see her again. She was like his little sister, the thought of never sharing a smile or laugh with her again shook him to the core. No, he wasn't ready to die. He had so much living left to do. So many movies he wanted to see, Probies to haze. He'd never hear another one of Ducky's long, rambling stories.

But for his team, he would. He didn't even really mind the idea, really.

Maybe he'd see Kate again.

* * *

No one was saying anything. Maybe this would be easier if someone was already talking. Tim knew that it should be him that Gibbs chose, he was most replaceable, and the worst agent. He wasn't like Ziva and Tony, he wasn't brave and he couldn't keep his emotions bottled up under the surface. Sometimes they got the better of him, and he felt that made him an inferior agent.

And he would be the least missed. He knew that if Gibbs lost Tony, it would destroy him, and Ziva was a valued asset to the NCIS team. He was only a Probie, a computer geek. Not exactly useful out in the field, and computer techies were a dime a dozen. He could be easily replaced.

Logically, he knew he was the right choice. But in his heart, he knew he had so much living left to do. There were things he wanted to do before he died, and he wasn't sure he'd have the guts to speak up and tell Gibbs that if should be him.

No one would miss him... well, except maybe Abby. McGee smiled when he thought of the bright young forensic genius. She was so amazing, and beautiful. He would have loved to spend more time with her... maybe dinner and a movie. He loved when she got all dressed up, there was something so graceful about the way she moved. Like a cat, he thought.

His gloom lifted for a moment as he thought of the Goth smiling at him, that special smile only he saw. But only seconds later, it crashed as he realised he may never see her again... He swore to himself that if they were rescued, or if somehow, he survived, he would ask her out . Life was too short to waste, he realised that now.

And if he died down here... well she would know he died a hero, and somehow that made it that little bit more bearable.

* * *

Ziva watched her companions without saying a word to them. Gibbs' face was a blank slate, betraying none of the turmoil she knew he felt. She felt it too, the horror of their situation bearing down on her. She doubted any of them could survive the strain much longer, something had to give.

And this new development. She did not know what to make of it. There was no way any of them could guess what Gibbs would do, apart from offer himself up instead of them. She knew that would never work, the bastard wanted Gibbs broken, not dead.

It was genius of the man. He had done one of the few things guaranteed to shatter Gibbs forever. Hell, no matter what the outcome, none of them would ever be the same after this. And one of them would not be leaving this room.

Ziva would tell Gibbs to choose her. She could handle whatever the man did to her. She had no doubt Tony would also, but she also knew how Gibbs felt about Tony, even if Tony had no idea. He was the son Gibbs had never had, and to lose him.. well it didn't bear thinking about.

She knew what Tony and Tim would be planning. They would both tell Gibbs to choose them. But he would not choose Tim, and he couldn't choose Tony. There was only her. Tim was a better agent then he knew, NCIS needed more techies like him. Able to walk to streets and work a computer. Tony, well he was one of the old kind of agent. The elite. And he was an amazing person, no matter what he had been told all his life.

Ziva was not afraid of death. But sometime over the past few years, she had started caring deeply about her team, and she was afraid to lose them. The thought of Tony or Tim dead and buried... a tear slipped down her face. She did not wipe it away, worried that would draw attention from the boys. Ziva hated tears, hated how weak they made her feel. She could count the number of times she had cried in her life on one hand...

And now her life might be coming to an end. One death, to save two others. It seemed fair to her. She hoped DiNozzo would not be a donkey about it.

She would tell Gibbs to choose her, because she was the only choice. If forced, she knew that he would have no choice but to choose her. At least this way it would take some of the guilt away.

* * *

They'd made their choice. "Gibbs," they said as one.


	7. I've been like a daughter to you

_("Tell me how much I've been like a daughter to you, and how much you love me._ _"_ __  
_"Will that help?_ _"_ _  
_ _"_ _No. What I really need to know Gibbs, is if you're gonna love me... no matter what._ _")_

 

* * *

 

"They're not dead Ducky, they can't be," Abby said petulantly. Ducky smiled sadly at the young Goth, who was still sitting on his autopsy table, fiddling with her hair. It was down today, and hung in her face, emphasising how big and scared her eyes looked.

She was facing the loss of her 'family', and it was scaring the hell out of her. "Tell me they're not dead Ducky! Please?" She needed to hear someone else say it.

The old man just sighed and wrapped his arms around her, a grandfatherly hug. She lay her head on his shoulder and tried not to cry again.

"Jethro is with them, my dear," he told her softly. "He will do everything in his power to keep them safe. All we can do is wait."

It had been an exhausting few days. Abby hoped that wherever her team was, it was somewhere where Gibbs could find coffee. She didn't expect Tony to survive otherwise.

They were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and Director Shepherd walking in. The Director looked tired and worried, losing all pretence at professionalism as soon as she entered the safe zone of autopsy. "There's no sign of them at the site of the raid, no car, nothing. We've got no leads."

Ducky swallowed, and pulled away from Abby. "It's only been three days, Director. I'm sure that they're all..."

No one said anything for a moment. This was no normal case, not anymore. Four agents had dropped off the face of the Earth, and there seemed to be no way of finding them.

"No!" Abby suddenly shouted, leaping off of the table. Her two seniors stared at her. "This is Gibbs we're talking about here! He's not dead, and neither is anyone else! Gibbs wouldn't let something like death stop him from coming home." She smiled, a weak attempt, but the first time she'd tried since they heard the news.

"And I'm going to my lab. I'm sure I can find some evidence for me and my babies to go over, and when I find something Gibbs will know. That will bring him home, if nothing else will." She stormed towards the elevator. Ducky wished he had her optimism, he wished he believed as completely that Gibbs was coming home.

Distracted by his thoughts, he almost missed Abby's stumble. It was Palmer, hovering somewhere behind the Director, who lunged forward and caught her before she collapsed. Three days of stress and no sleep had taken their toll.

"Abigail," Ducky admonished her, after sitting her back on the table and examining her. "What is Gibbs going to say when he sees you like this, hmm? This is no way to take care of yourself, young lady. You should be ashamed."

Abby hung her head. "I'm sorry, Duck... It's just with everyone in trouble, how can I worry about sleeping? Or eating! I don't even want my caf-pows... not if Gibbs isn't the one bringing them to me."

Ducky shook his head, stern look on his kind face. "Be that as it may, but you, young lady, are going home, to sleep and eat before you collapse. In fact, Palmer here is going to drive you home  _now._ " He glared at the boy who jumped.

"Oh, oh of course Doctor. Right away. Come on, Abby," he stuttered, grabbing his coat.  
"But –" Ducky shot her a stern look, and she crumbled. "Ok..."

Ducky watched her leave, sadly. The young Goth adored Gibbs, he hated seeing her so lost without her 'silver-haired fox' around. When this was all over, he was going to take her out for a nice dinner. Only, of course, if this ended well...

Director Shepherd, hovering by Abby's arm the whole time, sighed when they left. "I hope she's right, Ducky. I hope he's coming home."

Ducky patted her arm gently. "I hope they're all coming home."

* * *

Hours since Gibbs had been given his ultimatum. They'd all argued with him over who he should choose, until their boss had yelled at them to shut up. He needed to think and he couldn't do that with them squabbling. Now they sat silently again, trying to ignore how hungry, and thirsty and downright exhausted they were.

Gibbs barely said anything, just sat there with his eyes closed. Occasionally, he opened them and watched his team, still without saying a word.

How much time had gone past? None of them knew, but they could feel every moment slipping away.

Ziva broke the silence. If one of them was going to die, it was stupid to sit there moping about it. "Tony, remember the first time we met?" Tony raised his head, and stared at her blankly. "You were "having phone sex" if I recall correctly."

Tony smiled. It felt strange to smile, to think of a time when they weren't trapped. "I was.. thinking of Kate."

"Naked? Is that how you remember all your fallen colleagues?" she teased him, glad to pull him out of his mood.

"You wish, Zee-vah. No way I'll ever visualise McProbie naked if-" he stopped abruptly, and the smile vanished. "Not that anything's going to happen, to anyone..."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs warned him.

"Sorry Boss."

Ziva despaired. She had thought she was getting somewhere, stupid bringing up something that led to Kate! She desperately searched her mind for something else to talk about.

"You should have slept with me while you had the chance," Tony said lazily. McGee choked, and Ziva saw Gibbs stare incredulously at Tony.

"What?" she cried, shocked. Of course Tony would think of that now, only him, the irresponsible, immature frat boy. "In your wildest fantasies perhaps!"

Tony winked. "That's what all the girls say. You want me, admit it." Ziva spluttered, speechless.

"You... you pig!" she cried. He smiled, and leered at her.

"It's not too late you know, there's still time."

Ziva shook her head. "Now I know you are kidding, in front of Gibbs, Tony? That is terrible, even for you."

"He doesn't have to look. McGee, well he needs to learn sometime."

"I'm sure there's laws against that, DiNozzo, and if there's not, there damn well should be." Gibbs tried to glare at his agents, but his heart wasn't in it. He would have given anything for them to be bickering back at the bull-pen right now.

A voice cut into their banter.

"One hour, Agent Gibbs. You have one hour to make your decision. I hope you've thought it over sufficiently."

"You bastard," snarled Gibbs, leaping up. "You know who I'm going to chose. Me, kill me. Let my team go!"

"Not an option. I would have thought that was obvious. Make your mind up, Leroy. Tony, Ziva or Timothy. Fifty eight minutes."

"You sonovabitch," Gibbs roared. He was shaking with fury. Damn how he wished he had Raoul in front of him right now, at his mercy. But there was no reply, they were alone again. Or alone as they could be in the small room.

"Boss..." Tony whispered. Gibbs ignored him, staring still at the wall as though he could bore through it with the force of his mind and tear the man on the other side apart.

Ziva looked down at McGee. He sat, ashen faced, on the floor, eyes red. She wished she could make him feel better.. what would Abby do? She'd hug him of course.

As unaccustomed to such physical contact, Tim needed it. She squatted next to him, and wrapped her arms around him. McGee flinched, and stared at her.

"Wha- what are you doing?" Tony and Gibbs both turned to stare at the hardened Mossad, hugging McGee like he was a teddybear.

"I am giving Tim a – what is it Abby called it?"

"A sqwug?" Tony answered, weakly. Ziva nodded.

"Yeah one of those."

Tim looked like he might cry at the mention of Abby. "Gee... thanks Ziva," he murmured, hugging her back.

Tony walked over to them, and sat next to McGee, slinging his arm around the younger agent. "Don't suppose there's much I can say, McGeeky. This could be the final curtain call for me." He looked at Gibbs, and although he still spoke to McGee, his words were aimed at Gibbs. "After all, I'm the logical choice. Tell you what, it's been fun and I'll miss you all but death is just the next step in-"

"No, Tony," Gibbs interrupted him. He moved, placing himself in front of the three agents. "I'm sorry. But I can't. Not you Tony..." The expressionless mask slipped, and for the first time, they saw the raw anguish he'd been trying to hide. "I'm so sorry. Ziva, I'm sorry. I wish..."

Ziva felt... relieved. She would not have to watch her friends die. Tony and Tim just stared, shocked. "No.." whispered Tony. McGee moaned.

She stood, and placed her hand on Gibbs arm. "I understand."

* * *

The door clicked, and slowly swung open.


	8. All Park of the Job

_(" It's not the same. You get used to seeing someone every day, talking to them, relying on them, and suddenly they're not there..."_

" _It's all part of the job."_

"  _Doesn't make it any easier...")_

 

* * *

 

Tony felt his heart leap into his throat when the door begun to open. No, he wouldn't allow it, he wouldn't let her be killed. In one swift movement, a move he hadn't thought he'd be capable of in his current state, he'd placed himself between her and the door, and Gibbs. His mind reeled with the betrayal, he couldn't understand how Gibbs could allow the death of one of his team!

A small part of his mind whispered to him, that Gibbs had no choice, he was doing it to save Tony, but a much larger part of him screamed how his life was not worth Ziva's. He couldn't stand by and watch her get gunned down, and he knew that, no matter how set Gibbs was in his decision, there was no way the ex-Marine would allow her to be hurt in front of them either.

With Tony's simple move, chaos erupted in the small room. "Tony, no!" cried Ziva, trying to drag him down and out of the firing line. Gibbs shouted something unintelligible, and lunged for the door, either to knock it shut, or get in-between his team and harm. McGee merely ran forwards, whether to grab Tony, shield Ziva or get to the door, none of them would know.

Tony flung his arm out to stop Gibb, sending the older agent sprawling. Tim tumbled over his fallen boss, and flew forwards, sliding headfirst into the doorframe with a deafening thud.

Everyone froze, waiting for the fatal gunshot to Tim's unprotected head, clearly visible by the half open door. The Probie didn't move, but opened his eyes, trying to clear the ringing from his head. Moaning, he tried to blink the haze from his eyes. Then he realised what he was seeing and sat, bolt upright.

"Boss!" he gasped. They stared at him, still in a heap on the floor. Tony was sitting on Gibbs to, mostly prevent him getting up, but also because he was too dizzy to stand. His other arm had a firm grip on Ziva's wrist, almost tight enough to bruise. He didn't trust her not to do something stupid and heroic.

McGee stood, and wobbled out the door. "Tim!" all three of the agents roared. There was no answer from the junior agent.

"Get your arse back in here now, Probie," Gibbs said, furiously. "DiNozzo, move! That's an order." Tony scuttled off Gibbs, into Ziva's legs. But before any of them could make a move towards the door, it opened full revealing McGee, unharmed except for a cut on his forehead.

"The corridors empty, Boss," he said, blinking rapidly as the light bothered his eyes. "There's no one here."

Gibbs stood, and glared at DiNozzo. "Try another stunt like that," he warned, leaving the rest of the threat for Tony's mind to work out. Then he switched into full agent mode, barking orders like old times. "Ziva, watch our six, Tony in the middle with McGee. I'll take point. Now, move!" Unarmed, they slowly moved out into the corridor, and up the gently slanting corridor.

The end of the corridor ended with a fork, and more ahead. It was a virtual labyrinth. "One wrong move Gibbs, and no one will ever find us," Ziva murmured. Gibbs just glanced around, trying to get a feel for their surroundings.

"I – I was awake, Boss," stuttered McGee. "I think, well I'm not sure, but I think I might be able to remember. The way we came down, there were pipes in the walls." That ruled out the right fork, the walls were solid concrete. The left one seemed to slant downwards, and that didn't seem right.

"Middle is as good as any," Tony muttered, and they moved off. After what seemed like hours of walking and backtracking, they found themselves in what looked like a basement of a house.

"Good job, Probie," Tony told him. "Lucky we didn't leave you down in that tunnel. This reminds me of a movie I saw once..." He trailed off as they all shot him glares.

"Guys," McGee said suddenly, pointing. Near a ladder was a heap of what looked like their belongings. Gibbs kneeled over the pile, pulling out his Sig and Ziva's knife. Everything that had been taken from them was there, and the bullets were still in the guns.

"Something is not right," Ziva whispered. "Why would he arm us? Why am I not...?"

Gibbs growled. "He's not coming near you, Ziva. Not now, not ever. Let's end this sonovabitch right now." Tony nodded, looking almost as vengeful as Gibbs himself. Ziva pitied whoever found themselves on the receiving end of the two men's pent up anger.

The three younger agents positioned themselves around the ladder, guns pointed at the trapdoor that was almost hidden in the gloom, as Gibbs climbed it and shoved his shoulder against it, straining to push it open. There was a loud groan, as though something was sliding off of it, and the trapdoor burst open, showering them in dust and blinding them with the natural light that poured in.

Coughing, Gibbs propelled himself out of the floor, and stood with his gun armed, guarding the hole as his team climbed out. He was as confused as them, it seemed as though they were being let free unharmed. But why? Why make them play the game if the rules were suddenly going to change?

There was a noise in the room to their left. They were in what looked like the kitchen, the trapdoor cleverly hidden in the pattern of the floorboards. A rug and chair had been placed over it, and now lay on its side. Tony guessed stealth wasn't an option then.

Gibbs held a finger to his mouth, an order to be silent, then waved his hand towards the door. It was propped open, but they couldn't quite see what was in the next room.

Tony moved to cover the door, as Gibbs burst though, shouting, “NCIS, don’t move!” as he did so.

Eyes widened at the sight that met them. "Guess Raoul wasn't keen on meeting you after this, boss." Tony walked over to the dead man, and checked his pulse. This hardly seemed necessary, they were all pretty sure he was dead, seeing as his brains were splattered across the couch and wall. It made him feel better, anyway.

"Bastard killed himself so I wouldn't get the satisfaction," Gibbs snarled, using his gun to push around objects on the coffee table. A notebook fell to the ground, spilling photos across the floor. They were all there, Tony, Ziva, Gibbs, McGee, even shots of Abby and Ducky. There was also a few older photos of a smiling blonde and two adorable little girls. Balmer's dead family, Tony guessed. Gibbs kicked them away.

There was a note tucked under one of the photos. Ziva picked it up and unfolded it. Then swallowed. "I think we should leave, now," she warned them. She held the crinkled paper up so they could all read it.

_There was never a choice, Special Agent Gibbs._

"What's that supposed to mean?" McGee asked. "He can't kill us now, he's dead, and there's no sign of his guards."

All at once, the truth smashed into Gibbs with the force of a runaway train.  _No!_  It couldn't be... Suddenly he was running towards the door, and his team scrambled to follow him. Their car was parked haphazardly outside, keys still in the ignition, and he flung himself into the seat. "MOVE!" he roared, adrenaline racing though his veins. The team barely had time to close the doors, before he was speeding madly out of the yard and onto the road, weaving madly through the traffic.

"Gibbs!" cried Ziva, thrown against the door. He had the steering wheel in a death grip, and ignored all their questions. Only Tony asked him none, desperately searching his mind for an answer to Gibbs' desperation.

He was didn't know if he wanted the answer.

They made it to the NCIS headquarters in record time, screeching to a halt at the gate. Gibbs didn't even wait for security to wave them through, instead leaping out of the car and sprinting through the entrance. His team ran after him, the security staring wide-eyed. "Special Agent Gibbs?" one of them asked in shock. But they were gone, hitting the stairs and racing up them.

They burst into the bull-pen, stunning everyone. Jenny stood by the stairs, mouth slack, Ducky a few steps behind. No one had expected the missing agents to just run back into headquarters, filthy and bloodied, but alive.

Gibbs had a look in his eyes that none of them had ever seen before. He strode through the room, to Jenny and stood staring up at her, unable to voice the question that plagued him. Behind him, he could hear his team panting, and Tony whispering, "no, oh god no." He knew DiNozzo would work it out eventually.

"Jethro!" cried Ducky. "Are you okay? Where have you been?" The doctor looked exhausted, eyes red and face pale. He looked like a man who had been to hell and back. Gibbs knew that it wasn't just their disappearance that had made the gentle mortician look so old and drawn.

He ignored the question, and instead watched Jenny. She looked different, as though she had aged greatly in the past few days. She looked... grief stricken.

"It was never my choice," he whispered, beginning to shake. The adrenaline and hope that had pushed him to get here so fast was rapidly draining away, the hope that he would be in time. He felt old. Old and tired, and absolutely frozen with fear. "He was never going to let me chose, he knew who was going to die the whole time."

No one said anything, and as McGee glanced around, everywhere he looked he saw tear-stained faces and red eyes. A coldness spread through him, something terrible had happened here. He couldn't bring himself to ask.

Ducky had never seen the look that was on his friends face. "Oh Jethro," he murmured. "It's Abigail..." he trailed off. There was no need to finish that sentence. It was their worst fear come true.

Gibbs blanched. "Abby," he whispered. He slid slowly to the floor, head in his arms.

He could hear anguished sobs. Abby, not his Abby... it wasn't till long after that he realised they were his.

Raoul had gotten his revenge.


	9. I'll Keep You Safe

 

  _(" You're just saying that to make me feel safe."_

_" I'll keep you safe, Abby. (kisses her head) I promise."_

 

* * *

 

Tony was moving on autopilot. Tightening his tie, fixing his shirt, combing his hair. All simple, mundane tasks that he did every day for work. Somehow, today, they felt wrong. He fussed with every minute detail of his clothing, making sure everything was perfect. He could control this, control his appearance. Make people view him in a certain way. Tony liked being in control.

Being in control was safe. When there was no control, it was like he was spiralling madly down a cliff, falling to his doom. Control was going to work in a suit, impeccably attired.

Out of control was going to a funeral, her funeral. Out of control was that she was dead.

He felt his mask slip, and he leant against the wall, holding back the tears. He couldn't cry, not yet. He had to be strong, strong for everyone. He had to be the one to hold it together today.

He had to, because no one else was. The fact that Abby was gone, and not coming back, it was more than what the team could handle. With her death, their little family had shattered.

McGee had gone home that night and no one had heard from him since. They had been given the choice of whether they wanted to take leave or not. McGee, Palmer and Gibbs had taken it. Ziva, Ducky and Tony had not. But they were all off the active duty roster, instead Tony and Ziva sat staring at their paperwork, avoided glancing at the elevator. Ducky stayed in autopsy, he reckoned working was the best way to keep his mind off of things.

Ziva said nothing to anyone. But Tony has seen her when she thought no one else was looking, the tears she tried to hide. Abby had been her friend, and she keenly felt the loss.

Gibbs... Tony had been around Gibbs, trying to bolster some life into the grieving agent. But it was as though the Jethro Gibbs they all knew had died alongside Abby that day. Left in his place was a shallow version of him, one who was steadily drinking away his pain. Tony hadn't seen him sober once since the day of their escape. Nor had he heard him talk. Tony talked, of course he did. The best way to bring old Gibbs back was to be old Tony, even though it was more of a struggle to act the clown then it ever had been before.

None of them would ever really be the same. Abby had been a force of nature, she had spun crazily through their lives and they were forever changed for knowing her.

Tony straightened. The mask was back in place, and he gathered his things and walked to his car. The drive to the funeral was slow and careful, everything done on automatic. Abby was dancing through his head, the jokes they'd had, Bert the hippo, the time she was being stalked. The way she believed so completely in Gibbs' 'magic'. He hoped wherever she was now, she couldn't see the mess they all were. Boy, she'd be so mad...

As he pulled up, he realised two things. One, he wasn't ready to say goodbye to her yet. And two, Gibbs' car was missing.

Damn, the last time DiNozzo had seen Gibbs, the old marine had been too drunk to remember his name, let alone the date of a funeral. Especially as Tony had a small suspicion Gibbs hadn't quite come to terms with Abby being dead yet.

He screeched out of the car park, and drove like a madman towards Gibbs' place. However when he got there, the place was empty. Had he missed him? Had they passed each other on the way?

Suddenly, he knew where Gibbs was. He drove at a sedate pace this time, not really keen on going where he knew he had to go.

 

* * *

 

 

Abby's apartment. It looked... well the same. Except for the crime scene tape across the doorway. He ducked under it, pushing the door open. It was unlocked.

The bedroom was where... it had happened. But as he slowly strode towards the door, he couldn't help but glance around. Everything was so Abby, his heart ached. He almost expected her to come bouncing in, pigtails swinging.

He hoped the mortician had put her dog collar on her... she'd die rather than be buried without it. He realised what he'd thought, and flinched. Poor choice of words.

He found Gibbs standing just inside her bedroom door, just standing. He was staring at the splatter of blood across the wall and bad, the pool on the floor where she'd landed. Not just blood, Abby's blood. The last moments of her life stained into the carpets and linen.

"How long, DiNozzo?" Gibbs rasped. His voice was dry and husky from disuse. At least he sounded sober, and had showered.

"Boss?" Tony was hesitant. How long till what?

"Till it becomes okay. How long till we can function again, even though she's... gone." Tony didn't know how to answer that. He didn't think they could. But his silence was enough.

Gibbs sighed, and in that moment, he sounded very old. "It's over, Tony." Tony couldn't find any words, they were all stuck somewhere in his throat, making a hard lump. "We're over, the team is finished. Without Abby..."

"This isn't what she'd want, Boss." Tony could see it now, Gibbs had given up. The old marine was spent, wouldn't, or couldn't, do it anymore. He wanted to go home to his boat and drink the rest of his life away without having to face what had happened.

Gibbs spun to face him, and for a moment, looking into those empty, bloodshot eyes, Tony thought his boss was going to punch him. "Do you think this is what she wants, DiNozzo?" He gestured around the blood-spattered room. "Do you think she wanted to die?"

"No Boss..."

"Then shut up. Just, for once in your life, shut up Tony. She's gone, the team is gone. I'm going home."

"Boss," Tony whispered. "Her funeral."

Gibbs shook his head, strode towards the door. "I can't Tony, I won't bury another daughter. She doesn't need me now. She needed me then, but I wasn't there. I let her die, just like I let Kelly die."

He was nearly gone and Tony knew that if he let Gibbs walk out that door, then it really was over. He wasn't only walking away from Abby, he was walking away from Tony and Ducky and everyone at NCIS. And this time, he wasn't coming back.

"You're right," he said. Gibbs stopped, one hand on the doorknob. "She doesn't need you now. But  _we_  do, Gibbs. We need you. The rest of your family, the ones you have left. Tim, Jenny, Ducky, me. We need you now more than ever. Please don't walk away from us."

Gibbs shook his head. "It's too late. You don't need me, maybe you never did." And he was gone, the door swinging emptily on its hinges. Tony stood alone, abandoned, as the one he had thought of as a father walked away from him.

He felt empty, emotionless. Like a ghost, everything was somehow faded and out of focus. He didn't remember walking out, or locking the door behind him, or climbing back into his car. He didn't remember the exact moment he turned the ignition, or the moment he begun to drive towards the funeral once more.

He barely had time to react when the kid ran out in front of his car, slamming the brakes on just in time. The kid yelled abuse at him, and ran off, leaving Tony sitting shell-shocked. He couldn't do anything, the act of pushing on the brakes has drained him of any willpower he had left. It felt like an age he sat there, engine trundling softly, staring at the road with his hands gripping the wheel like a lifesaver.

He didn't even notice his door opening, and gentle hands pulling him out of the car, and around to the passenger side. Hands that sat him down and buckled him in. The person then sat in the vacated driver's seat, and they were moving again. Tony turned his head, and suddenly everything was very clear and focussed again.

"Gibbs?" he asked, incredulously. His boss was driving, silently watching the road.

"Should pay more attention, DiNozzo. Thought I taught you better." Tony nodded. He wondered what would happen now.

They pulled into the carpark for the second time. Tony could see a group of people clustered near the door. He could see the back of Ducky's head, and he could see Ziva. He could see McGee, standing by Ziva's side.

Gibbs stopped him before he could get out. "You were right, Tony. Not about everything, but some things. Thank you." Tony wasn't sure what was going on in Gibbs' head, but if it meant he was staying, well then he didn't really care.

Tony was waiting for him. Gibbs took a deep breath then stepped out of the car. Seeing the look of betrayal on DiNozzo's face back there, well it had shown Gibbs a thing or two. But it wasn't just Tony's pleading that had brought him around. He needed his team, needed them more then they needed him.

He may have lost his daughters, both of them. But he still had a son, and they would walk into that funeral together.

And after that? Well, there was really just no knowing. But whatever it was, they would face it together.

 


End file.
